Eutopia No Longer: Surrendering of the Blueprint Utopias

Introduction

Imagine a world in which all conflicts of conscience, ethics, and personal interest were non-existent; a society in which the barriers to a decent and joyous life for all human beings had been removed; a society in which the resourcefulness of modern technology and industry was put to the task of decreasing labor and increasing leisure; a perfect picture of the world in which peace, equality, and harmony are universal. These elements characterize the western tradition of utopian literature. Why do these natural desires for the future of humanity and society lead to the powerful counter-movement of anti-utopianism? For many critics of utopianism, the attempt to map out a blueprint or plan for an ideal society inevitably leads to authoritarianism, tyranny, and totalitarianism to achieve and maintain that ideal. In short, the repudiation of utopia by liberal or anti-communist, anti-utopians stems from witnessing the dominating events of the twentieth century: two immeasurably destructive world wars, Nazism, Fascism, Stalinism, the Cold War, and more. Misguided historical interpretation has “generally lumped together all the varieties of utopia as one and the same thing” (Kumar, 91). Consequently, “More or Morris points in the same direction as the utopian theory of Owen or Marx” (Kumar, 91), which help the detractors of utopianism form a tenuous connection between “blueprint” utopianism and the blights of Stalinism and Nazism.

Unfortunately, any further investigation into the rise and domination of anti-utopian sentiment in the twentieth century is beyond the scope of this discussion. Here, the endangered nature of the “blueprint” utopias or literary utopian works is the principal concern. The following will: briefly define the tradition of “blueprint” utopias; discuss the principal arguments against “blueprint” utopias; examine the responses from utopian apologists; and attempt to reconcile blueprint plans and ideas as a necessary component to utopianism.


“Blueprint” Utopias

According to The Oxford English Dictionary, utopia is defined as a place or state, ideally perfect in respect of politics, law, customs, and conditions. As social theory, it is dismissed as an impossibly ideal scheme. There are numerous genres and categories of utopias, most of them being postmodern. There are even conflicts between content and function within specific types of utopias. For the purpose of this essay, blueprint utopias will be defined as literary narratives characterized by two primary functions: “a critical function which draws attention to the defects of existing arrangements;” and “a prospective function which outlines alternative ideas or arrangements to be formulated in more satisfactory terms later” (Hudson, 111). Put more eloquently, Krishan Kumar states, “The utopian writer lives in two worlds. His is correspondingly a double vision. He looks down from utopian heights with . . . comic relish for the follies and vanities of his own world. He looks up from his own world with a tragic sense of the unattainability of the ideal” (Kumar, 96). Examples of this literary canon include, but are not limited to: Sir Thomas More’s Utopia, Edward Bellamy’s Looking Backward, B.F. Skinner’s Walden Two, Johann Valentin Andreae’s Christianopolis, and Ernest Callenbach’s Ecotopia.


Against Planning Freedom

After the fall of communism, the standard critique of utopia has come to be tacitly accepted, even among those who see value in utopianism. “The standard critique of utopia, advanced by Central European intellectuals maintains that utopia is not only unrealistic and impractical but dangerous, in so far as it encourages human beings to give vent to totalist . . . states, and provides an illusory basis for human action” (Hudson, 17). Can blueprint utopianism be considered an instance of totalitarian thought? The rational aspects of blueprint utopianism, namely the detailed descriptions of planning society, have been severely criticized by a number of modern thinkers, including Karl Popper, Friederich Hayek, Isaiah Berlin, and Leszek Kolakowski.

Critics of utopian thinking and planning attack both the methods and the goals of utopians. Dating back to Plato’s Republic, the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle disagreed with Plato’s ideal city-state. He claimed that it sacrificed the values of individualism and self-interest in order to achieve the goal of group cohesion. Aristotle believed that “too much unity or identity of interests can lead to social defects, such as loss of individual identity” (Richter, 5). Aristotle’s argument against blueprints in not especially applicable to this discussion, but it effectively sets the basic point of the conflict between blueprint utopianism and its critics: “The idea of planning freedom in detail . . . is an oxymoron at best” (Jacoby 3) and a dystopian nightmare at worst. The following will consider the arguments posed against utopian planning by notable intellectuals, theorists, and scholars. In addition, prominent works of dystopian literature will be addressed as a powerful extension of liberal, anti-utopian arguments.


The Liberal Assault

To describe the liberal case against blueprint utopianism, the principal focus will begin with the anti-utopian arguments of Isaiah Berlin. Of course there are numerous political theorists and thinkers who have attacked utopian planning in the name of liberalism, but Berlin has done so with a persistence and influence greater than the majority of the others. This is not to say that Popper, Kolakowski, Talmon, Hayek, and others will not be cited, but Berlin “is representative of a particular school of liberal thinking that regards utopianism as a sui generic mode of thought inimical to liberal-democratic theory . . . and, if scholarly citations are any indication, [he] is also one of its leading exponents” (Goodwin 2, 99).

Before reaching Berlin’s critique of utopianism, it is necessary to describe his defining features of utopia. According to Berlin, the main characteristic of most utopias is the fact that they are static. “Nothing in them alters, for they have reached perfection, and nobody can wish to alter a condition in which all natural human wishes are fulfilled” (Berlin, 20). Since the anti-utopians hold that blueprint utopias map out a perfect social harmony or human condition, an idea closely linked to millenarianism, the contradictions with liberal ideology occurs during attaining and maintaining utopian plans. For Berlin, no perfect solution is possible in human affairs. The attempt to produce it is likely will lead to great harm. Berlin poses a rhetorical question, “if it is possible to attain a final solution to all human ills, then what price could be too high to pay for such a goal?” (Goodwin, 60). His assumption is that, “those convinced they had discovered the only true path to ultimate salvation would also feel they had a license to do away with the liberty of choice . . . resistance would have to be stamped out, and hundreds of thousands might have to perish to make millions happy for all time (Berlin, 15). This, according to Berlin, connects blueprint utopias to Lenin, Stalin, and Mao. Achieving utopia became the justification for the slaughter of millions in wars or revolutions: “gas chambers, gulags, genocide, all the monstrosities for which our century will be remembered – are the price men must pay for the felicity of future generations” (Berlin, 16). Berlin’s liberal case against utopian planning consists of establishing a link between utopia as political theory and the pursuit of absolute, monistic goals.

It appears evident that anti-utopianism, “presented by refugee scholars of great repute and allure, . . . became the conventional wisdom of our time; it damned utopianism as the scourge of history” (Jacoby 2, 52). Viewing Isaiah Berlin’s work as overvalued, historian Russell Jacoby states that Karl Popper “was the first and probably the most important figure . . . to elaborate a forceful anti-utopianism” (Jacoby 2, 52). Popper believes that utopianism is misplaced rationalism. Utopias accept as true that “all rational political action must be based upon a more or less clear and detailed description or blueprint of our ideal state” (Kumar, 90). To him, the utopian method must lead to violence and suffering. Jacoby notes that, “[Popper] dedicated The Poverty of Historicism to the ‘memory of countless man and women of all creeds or nations or races who fell victims to the fascist and communist belief in Inexorable Laws of Historical Destiny” (Jacoby 2, 52). Popper’s assumptions appear to have exposed the dangerous form of social engineering lurking below utopian ideas, ever threatening to suppress individualism and pluralism. Popper makes a sharp distinction between the sinister “utopian engineering” and what he describes as “piecemeal engineering.” “The piecemeal reformer ‘tinkers’ but does not pursue a ‘method of re-designing [society] as a whole.’ On the other hand, the . . . ‘utopian engineer’ aims at ‘remodeling the whole of society in accordance with a definite plan or blueprint’” (Jacoby 2, 54). Popper insisted that the reality of human nature and life was too unpredictable for radical reformers or social engineers. Utopian plans require a huge gamble in the name of perfection and harmony. It could never reach its potential and redeem its lofty promises. As more effort is put into radical reforms, the less likely the end result would be anything desirable, eventually deteriorating into an authoritarian and totalitarian dystopia.

In 1944, a year before Popper’s The Open Society, Friederich Hayek published The Road to Serfdom. Here Hayek, like his contemporary Popper, argues against planning on the basis that it inevitably leads to totalitarianism. For Hayek, “communism and fascism are merely variants of the same totalitarianism” (Parker, 16). But unlike the previously mentioned liberal thinkers, Hayek was an economist first and foremost. He did not reject the assumptions of utopian blueprints, but wished to modify the content. His utopian blueprint was that of a pure, free-market society. Here socialist blueprints in utopia are criticized and are replaced with “a spontaneous order (‘catallaxy’) developing organically and taking the form of . . . disorganized capitalism” (Parker, 17). Hayek’s argument displays the common belief among anti-utopians that planning socialism creates communism, which plants the corrupting seed of totalitarianism in utopian projects.

Echoing the ideas of Berlin and Popper, Leszek Kolakowski also believes that blueprint utopianism leads to a totalitarian coercion. He fears that “a feasible utopian world must presuppose that people have lost their creativity and freedom . . . and that all of mankind has achieved the perfect satisfaction of needs and accepted a perpetual deadly stagnation as its normal condition” (Kolakowski, 238). He continues to warn that, “the victory of the utopian dreams would lead us to a totalitarian nightmare and the utter downfall of civilization” (Goodwin, 56). It seems perfectly reasonable to assume that with any utopia, there would have to be a strong central authority to guarantee the proper construction of harmony and happiness while eliminating forms of pluralism deemed subversive to society. For example, look closely at Edward Bellamy’s vision of the American future in Looking Backward. Although published in 1888, it seems like an eerie ideological glorification of the Soviet Union in the 1930s. The government is deeply nationalistic and is an all-powerful entity; citizens must divide all profits equally, and their loyalty is guaranteed through the strict military discipline of an “industrial army.” Incentives for high achievement in industry consist of bronze, silver, and gold medals which somehow spur ambition and performance. The arts and aesthetic pluralism are stifled or neglected by the façade of a militaristic society. This fear of planning and controlling society stems partially from Kolakowski’s personal experiences escaping from socialist regimes in Eastern Europe, but it also clearly evident within the text of famous blueprint utopian works. By offering itself as a practical, political system, “[utopia] provides new names for old injustice, . . . Utopias . . . have become ideologically poisonous, . . . a device to force the door of paradise” (Kolakowski, 240).


On Dystopias

As most college undergraduates delight to assert in their essays on utopia, the detailed blueprints of More and Bellamy are flawed, oppressive, and inherently incompatible with liberal and democratic ideology. They claim profound insights when they note the deficiencies of these plans when compared with today’s pluralistic, diverse, and free society. In Utopia, a citizen cannot travel from city to city without approval by the government; freedom of religion is respected and celebrated, but the personal renunciation of religion in any form is a crime; “In Christianopolis, Johann Valentin Andreae described the clothing women wear in a seventeenth-century utopia: they ‘have only two suits of clothes, one for their work, one for the holidays; and for all classes they are made alike . . . the color for all is white or ashen grey” (Jacoby, 170). In other works, such as B.F. Skinner’s Walden Two, the description of utopia outraged so many contemporary readers, that it effectively became a dystopian piece depending upon the temperament of the reader. An extreme cynicism of the genre affects even the apathetic readers of blueprint utopias. Where does this come from?

The influence of dystopian work on the twentieth century is as overwhelming as it is invisible. “From Brave New World to 1984, generations of high school and college students learn the lesson that utopias in general, and communism in particular, are not only doomed, but destructive” (Jacoby 2, 8). It is the popular belief that when Aldous Huxley imagined a genetically engineered and drugged society, he was imagining a world in which the utopian planners intended society to be oppressed or stifled. Anti-utopians (and the majority of the apathetic public) see 1984 not as a society designed to terrorize or create unhappiness. Within the narrative, these societies were specifically designed to be utopian, not dystopian. This might lead some to suggest that one person’s utopia is another man’s dystopia, and vice versa. The error here is succumbing to the subjective view of utopian ideas. There are objective elements within the blueprint utopian tradition which cannot be easily found within dystopian literature and should not be ignored when evaluating the influence of dystopia in the collective consciousness of modern society.

From 1984 comes the confident belief that utopia seems to make only one very clear demand: obey. The more perfect a utopia strives to be, the more stringent become the controls. The inescapable reality of authoritarianism is reached, Big Brother is born. The society depicted by Orwell is absolutely totalitarian, with barely anything resembling happiness or harmony. “Knowledge is defined as ignorance, love as hate, freedom as slavery, war as peace. Thought-control has been achieved by the manipulation of language. Privacy, pleasure, and mystery have been taken out of sex and reproduction by the interference of state authority. Science has become the handmaiden of a destructive technology . . . and Big Brother . . . triumphs over all disloyal citizens” (Richter, 7). But the Inner Party of Oceania disposes of elements and ideas which characterize blueprint utopias. “The contrary of every utopian end prevails in order to satisfy the power-sadism of the Inner Party” (Kateb, 236). O’Brien, Winston Smith’s interrogator, describes the aims of the party as “the exact opposite of the stupid hedonistic utopias that the old reformers imagined” (Kateb, 236). Furthermore, Russell Jacoby analyzes the interrogation: “it demonstrated that Winston still imagined the Party retained a progressive commitment to happiness or freedom. O’Brien corrected Winston. The Party seeks power for its own end, simply to wield power . . . to cause suffering” (Jacoby 2, 11). Some believe that absolute power has the potential to corrupt even the noblest plans, but to ignore the stark differences between the benevolent intentions of blueprint utopianism and the malevolent objectives of dystopian planners is to oversimplify and overrate dystopian criticism of utopia. It is the commitment to happiness, harmony, freedom, and equality which distinguishes the social planners of blueprint utopias from those of Oceania.


Betrayal of Utopia

This section was originally intended to describe the arguments of the utopian apologists and supporters in defense of their beloved tradition. Disappointingly, it falls dramatically short of that goal and becomes more or less a continuation of the attack on blueprint utopias. Of course, there are still intellectual and academic writers defending blueprint utopias to some degree. The previous discussion on anti-utopianism in the form of dystopian literature defended utopianism on the grounds that “to read 1984 as a straightforward attack on utopia or socialism takes some doing” (Jacoby 2, 10). Jacoby goes on to convincingly argue that “many elements [in 1984] bespeak capitalist Britain, not communist Russia” (Jacoby 2, 10). Similarly, George Kateb doubts that 1984 even has the elements required to be considered as an anti-utopian critique of utopia. “Good intentions must be taken for granted if “utopian” and hence “antiutopian” are to have any meaning . . . If Brave New World is a hell of pleasure, 1984 is a hell of pain” (Kateb, 235). Perhaps not as convincing, Kateb continues by citing alternative categories of pseudo topia, semitopia and negative topia.

In fact, Russell Jacoby and many others have responded to the argument advanced by many liberal anti-utopians: “conventional wisdom links utopia and violence” (Jacoby, 169). He believes that the factual basis for this is slender. “The notion that utopians are violent and that realists are benign belongs to the mythology of our time” (Jacoby, 169). This notion includes the argument that utopianism is connected to the infamous totalitarian regimes of modern times: Stalinism, Nazism, Fascism, and Communism. While some utopias are indeed anti-pluralist and authoritarian in character, there is no connection between utopianism and the fanaticism required for violent revolution and totalitarian regime. “[Totalitarianism] is too complex a phenomenon, both historically and ideologically, to be reduced to an alleged product of some utopian frame of reference” (Donskis, 39). Barbara Goodwin expounds, “the utopian mode of thinking . . . [shows] that the rationalist approach and commitment to a single truth has virtues which the empiricist, piecemeal, ‘open,’ laissez-faire approach advocated by Popper and others lacks” (Donskis, 40). Further more she argues, “that anti-totalitarian and anti-utopian thinkers deceive themselves in their presentation of liberal-democratic society as paradigmatically open” (Donskis, 40). It possible that planning freedom need not include revolution or coercion, and lead to authoritarianism. Education, experimentation, and democratic choice are viable methods to be combined with utopian blueprints.

To defend specific blueprint utopias, Bellamy’s Looking Backward draws significant attention by both sides. Indeed, Looking Backward can be condemned as communistic, authoritarian, and nationalistic. Bellamy’s reaction to those who feared the totalitarian implications of his vision: “aren’t we parts of a great industrial machine right now? The only difference is that the present machine is a bungling and misconstructed one, which grinds up the bodies and souls of those who work in it” (Spann, 197). It is arguable that, “government in Bellamy’s socialist utopia is neither tyrannical nor permissive, neither totalitarian nor democratic. All that remains by way of governmental services is the administration of decisions which are arrived at technically” (Spann, 40). The government of Bellamy’s utopia conducts affairs without politics. Political strife was replaced by a rational technocracy. To the anti-utopians who attribute revolutionary violence to blueprints, Russell Jacoby responds, “What does talk about violence and utopians have to do with Edward Bellamy and his vision of vegetarianism?” (Jacoby, 169).

From the impassioned and articulate arguments in defense of utopia, it appears that at least the study and appreciation of utopianism survived the anti-utopian onslaught. But it is at this point where liberal critics and utopian supporters find common ground. They believe the blueprint planning of utopian literature is an exhausted tradition, but the critical and inspirational benefits of utopias should continue to be celebrated. Planning utopia is marginalized, ignored, or disavowed as a legitimate function of utopian thought. The sociologist Karl Mannheim, in his book Ideology and Utopia, argued that “the complete disappearance of the utopian element from human thought and action would mean that . . man would lose his will to shape history, and therewith his ability to change it.” Furthermore, British sociologist Ruth Levitas “remains committed to the notion that utopia has an ‘essence’, which she identifies as the desire to a different, better way of living” (Hudson, 18). Even those who advocate for a partial return to utopia are prepared to accept the irreconcilability of blueprint utopianism and reality. Lewis Mumford values utopia as “a largesse of spirit and imagination” (Jacoby 2, 32), “a harmless mode of escape for the restless and dissatisfied” (Richter, 4) and others see in utopian literature as a source of inspiration, guidance, and influence. But the surrender of utopian planning is only affirmed by these concessions to modern anti-utopianism. Krishan Kumar holds true that “the attempt to realize utopias as a political project is fraught with danger. It is, at best likely to bring about a society bearing only the slightest resemblance to the utopian conception . . . At worst it will create the opposite of utopia, an anti-utopia of authoritarian regimentation” (Kumar, 95).

But Kumar still believes that “utopian conceptions are indispensable to politics, and to progress” (Kumar, 95). The new perception is that regardless of their authors’ intentions, most utopias have been more significant and influential in their critical or iconoclastic functions than as blueprints and models. They upheld imagined societies with which readers inevitably compared and judged their own. They also served as debunkers of the existent systems and status quo. The traditional approach to utopias as models, plans, or blueprints often distracts readers and critics from their central critical function. “The blueprints not only appear repressive, but they also rapidly become dated. Even with the best of wills, the blue printers tether the future to the past. In outfitting utopia, they order from the catalog of their day” (Jacoby 2, 32). Thus, reformers of utopia turn to the “iconoclastic utopians.” These thinkers “longed, waited, or worked for utopia but did not visualize it” (Jacoby 2, 33). The leading figure of this non-traditional approach to utopia is German Jewish philosopher Ernst Bloch. Modern utopists like Jacoby consider the visualization and diagramming of utopia to be a betrayal of utopias true transformative potential. Even extensive and visionary blueprints are too narrow and historically dated to sustain the “soul” of utopia. Treating utopias as blueprints for action opens the way for anti-utopians to draw connections between utopia and totalitarianism, and launch their relentless attacks upon utopianism is general. A person “can listen for utopia, approach it through hints and parables but to give its precise measurements would be a betrayal” (Jacoby 3). In addition, defending the political theories and social plans in blueprint utopias diverts intellectual energy away from exploring and studying alternative utopian traditions. Utopianism no longer requires blueprints. Here, “the protest of anti-utopian liberals like Karl Popper and Isaiah Berlin may be on the mark. The blueprinters have had their day” (Jacoby 2, 143-144).


A Losing Struggle

The attractive arguments against blueprint utopias posed by anti-utopian thinkers, liberal and conservative, coupled with the lack of support for the dated literary tradition indicates a clear consensus against blueprint utopian literature. In order to reform and resuscitate the utopian tradition, blueprinters must be sacrificed and scapegoated. Scholar, academics, and intellectuals of utopia would be better fighting for the blueprint tradition, exhausted or not. True, as previously discussed, utopian social planning is flawed and its promotion is a liability to the legitimacy of utopian thought. Surrendering the exhausted tradition and refocusing on iconoclastic utopia may be the only means to reform. But by admitting that the blueprints laid out in utopian works are unimportant, undesirable, or impossible, the power of the utopian message is irreversibly damaged. Utopian ideals are stripped of their intellectual strength.

Russell Jacoby laments that, “once students dreamt of healing the ills of society; now based on the students I have – they dream of going to good law schools” (Jacoby 2, 148). This observation will only be affirmed in the future as the bulk of the utopian tradition is left defenseless. How can future generations apply their time and energy to the study and perpetuation of utopian thought and belief when the majority of accessible works on utopia have all been rejected by their intellectual mentors and teachers? Today, the complete lack of interest among students which greets the study of utopia is disturbing. They are characterized as “boring”, “unrealistic”, or “unattractive.” Focusing on the work of iconoclastic utopians is not a solution. Ernst Bloch brings “a high theoretical sophistication to the thematisation of utopia”, but “understandably, social scientists and historians of utopia have found Bloch’s approach hard to follow” (Hudson, 20). Furthermore, the complexities of his ideas are sometimes lost in inadequate translations. Obviously, undergraduate and even graduate students would have difficulties appreciating and comprehending the text.

Blueprint plans are a necessary component to utopianism, because defending them preserves utopia for the layman. Even faulty, clichéd defenses which simply claim that “the ends justify the means” or observe that the blueprint society “would put to shame our modern ones,” serve to bolster the endangered tradition. Utopists now believe that “what we learn from [iconoclastic] utopians is that a reluctance to depict utopia does not diminish but exalts it” (Jacoby 3). But by surrendering blueprint utopias to its enemies, utopists may have created an audience which has no desire to hear the exaltations, or even worse, is unable to appreciate it.




Works Cited

1.) Berlin, Isaiah. The Crooked Timber of Humanity. London: Fontana Press, 1991.

2.) Goodwin, Barbara. The Philosophy of Utopia. London: Frank Cass Publishers, 2001.

3.) Goodwin, Barbara (2). The Politics of Utopia. London: Hutchinson Press, 1982.

4.) Kumar, Krishan. Utopianism. Great Britain: Open University Press, 1991.

5.) Kateb, George. Utopia and Its Enemies. New York: Schocken Books, 1972.

6.) Richter, Peyton. Utopia/Dystopia, Utopia?/Dystopia?. Cambridge, MA: Schenkman Publishing, 1975.

7.) Hudson, Wayne. The Reform of Utopia. Great Britain: Ashgate Publishing, 2003.

8.) Parker, Martin. Utopia and Organization. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2002.

9.) Jacoby, Russell. The End of Utopia. USA: Basic Books, 1999.

10.) Jacoby, Russell (2). Picture Imperfect. New York: Columbia University Press, 2005.

11.) Jacoby, Russell (3). Glenn, Joshua. “The Last Utopian”. Boston Globe; May 15, 2005.

12.) Kolakowski, Leszek. The Death of Utopia Reconsidered. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983.

13.) Spann, E.K. Brotherly Tomorrows: Movements for a Cooperative Society in America, 1820-1920. New York: Columbia University Press, 1989.

History Graduation Class of 05

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The Great Purge: Rubashov, Bukharin, and Friends

To retain his unquestioned dictatorship of the Soviet Union, Stalin knowingly and actively unleashed a campaign of state terror known as the Great Purges and the subsequent Moscow Show Trials. Party members of the “old order” who opposed any of Stalin’s policies or could potentially oppose Stalin were arrested and either secretly liquidated or made examples of in public show trials. The motivations behind Stalin’s Great Purges and show trials are complicated. Stalin created suspicions about counter-revolutionaries and conspiracy plots in his mind. It was clear that when it came to suspicions it was “easy” to fool Stalin, or maybe Stalin’s paranoid mind wanted to be fooled. Regardless, the accused were often convicted of unlikely crimes based on falsified evidence. The obvious course would be to focus on Stalin’s role during these purges, but this will focus on the role played by the accused. Arthur Koestler’s Darkness at Noon and Nikolai Bukharin’s “Last Letter to Stalin” are two historical sources, one a fictional novel and the other an archival document, which lend insight into the motives and psychological processes of the Great Purges’ defendants. The following will compare and contrast Rubashov’s and Bukharin’s: internal thought processes on communist ideology, motivations for confession, and relationship with Stalin.

Darkness at Noon and “Last Letter” both describe the sufferings and inner turmoil which Rubashov and Bukharin are experiencing. Both men believe they have been loyal to the Party and the revolutionary cause, but questions about the regime arise after each has been arrested and interrogated. Obviously, Darkness at Noon goes into greater depth detailing Rubashov’s reflections about the Revolution and the Party, but there are notable similarities between Bukharin’s ideology and Rubashov’s. During a flashback, Rubashov remembers lecturing Richard, the young German communist: “The Party can never be mistaken . . . it is the embodiment of the revolutionary idea in history . . . history knows her way . . . he who has not absolute faith in History does not belong in the Party’s ranks” (Koestler, p.34). Rubashov’s opinions about Party policy and the blind belief in communist ideology are most similar to Bukharin’s at this point. Bukharin writes, “I know all too well that great plans, great ideas and great interests take precedence over everything, and I know that it would be petty for me to place the question of my own person on a par with the universal-historical tasks.” Both men believe that the individual must be marginalized in order to preserve the Fatherland and create a greater good. Individuals such as Rubashov and Bukharin can make mistakes, but Communism can not be mistaken. To stop believing this doctrine is the first step in becoming hostile to the Revolution. Interestingly, Rubashov later confronts his inner conflict between following this doctrine and coming to realization that the Party’s methods may be hindering the great Revolution: “What a mess we have made of out golden age . . . we deliberately let die of starvation about five million farmers . . . we make transition-stage laws which are contradictory to the aims of the Revolution . . . we whip the groaning masses toward a theoretical future happiness” (Koestler, p.129). While Bukharin blindly believes Stalin’s communism is the same ideology from which the Revolution began with, Rubashov’s internal thought process has come to another conclusion. Both Bukharin and Rubashov have been betrayed by the Party and scorned by the Great Purge. But Bukharin still believes that “there is something great and bold about the political idea of a general purge.” It is possible Bukharin also had doubts about Party ideology, but there are no indications of this in his “Last Letter.” In contrast, Rubashov ends his internal monologue with a biting condemnation of the communist revolution: “It was a mistake in the system; in the precept, that the end justifies the means. It was this sentence which killed the great fraternity of the Revolution . . . we are sailing without ethical ballast” (Koestler, p.210). Rubashov did not reach this conclusion easily. In the novel, his interrogations with Ivanov and Gletkin were complicated, heated theoretical debates about the validity of Party ideology. But in the end, Rubashov reaches a greater understanding which Bukharin could not. The Bolshevik Revolution began with just cause, to institute social equality and remove the perceived causes of human suffering. The simple utopian vision became warped and distorted as Party policy created horrible unforeseen consequences.

Why did the accused, who were often old Party members and revolutionaries, confess to outrageous crimes they never committed? Koestler accurately describes some of the methods used: “Some silenced by physical fear, like Hare-lip; some hoped to save their heads; others at least to save their wives or sons, . . . and the best of them let themselves be sacrificed as scapegoats” (Koestler, p.205). Bukharin and Rubashov had similar and differing motivations for confessing to crimes they never committed. Bukharin deeply loved his family, in particular his second wife and young son: “I ask you to allow me to bid farewell to my wife and son. I would like to exchange a few last words with her. I would like permission to meet her before the trial.” Bukharin was being blackmailed by the NKVD and the prosecutors of his show trial. His family’s well-being hinged upon a complete confession and a satisfactory performance during the trial. In contrast, Rubashov mentions no close family or friends which are held hostage by the authorities. In Rubashov case, when Gletkin uses Bogrov to provoke Rubashov, the opposite occurs. Rubashov remembers his friend’s loyalty and then reflects upon his old lover, Arlova. The entire ordeal only strengthens Rubashov’s humanistic and moralistic side. He stubbornly refuses to even discuss confession for a short time afterward. Rubashov is broken down initially with “soft” methods of Ivanov. He agrees to confess after Ivanov convinces him that the greater good of the Revolution takes precedence over any “bourgeoisie sensibilities” of dying in silence. Then Ivanov is removed and Gletkin takes over his interrogation. The “hard” method is used to break Rubashov down: “lack of sleep and physical exhaustion. It is all a matter of constitution” (Koestler, p.195). Rubashov is tired and susceptible to Gletkin’s discourse about Party unity and duty to the Revolution. For the first time, Gletkin uses the word “comrade” to address Rubashov. Rubashov ignores any previous doubts about the validity of the Party’s methods. For now, in his current state, the ends justify the means. Likewise, the situation must have been similar for Bukharin. There is no direct evidence in “Last Letter” to show that Bukharin underwent similar interrogation techniques, but some of his statements to Stalin reveal just that. Bukharin writes, “My head is giddy with confusion, and I feel like yelling at the top of my voice. I feel like pounding my head against the wall . . . What am I to do? What am I to do?” Solitary confinement, sleeplessness, and fatigue similar to Rubashov’s ordeal could be the cause of Bukharin’s confusion and frustration. In addition, he states, “I had no ‘way out’ other than that of confirming the accusations and testimonies of others and of elaborating on them. Otherwise, it would have turned out that I had not ‘disarmed.’” It appears that he was pushed to the limit of something. Whatever tactics they used, Bukharin believes that a confession will bring him relief and at least temporary peace. Perhaps the major motivation for both Rubashov and Bukharin is some perverse feeling of allegiance to the Communist Party and the Revolution. As mentioned previously, Bukharin still blindly believes that the “great ideas and great interests” of the Party take precedence over everything, even his honor and life. Rubashov struggles within himself to find motivation for confessing to false crimes. While he still does not whole-heartedly adhere to Party ideology as Bukharin has, Rubashov does admit that he has only one viable choice: “there is a third choice . . . the denial and suppression of one’s own conviction when there is no prospect of materializing it . . . the only moral criterion which we recognize is that of social utility” (Koestler, p. 137). Rubashov gave up protesting his innocence to his interrogator. Likewise, Bukharin must have also given up, except for this one last letter to Stalin begging for salvation. Once both these men realized that they were guilty by default, they accepted their fate and adjusted psychologically to make confessing easier. According to Geltkin, “Your task is simple . . . the policy of the opposition is wrong . . . make the opposition contemptible . . . sympathy and pity for the opposition are a danger to the country” (Koestler, p.193). The ends justify the means; confess to crimes you did not commit in order to preserve the Bastion of the revolution.

For both the accused men, Bukharin and Rubashov, there is a personal relationship with the man behind the curtain. The man to which this terrible Great Purge is attributed. Bukharin addresses him as Iosif in his “Last Letter” and Rubashov refers to him only as No. 1. This man of course is Joseph Stalin. Bukharin’s document is specifically addressing Stalin, so naturally there is evident throughout the letter of his feelings toward the dictator. Bukharin makes it clear early on that “all these past years, I have been honestly and sincerely carrying out the Party line and have learned to cherish and love you wisely.” He continues on by writing, “For this forgive me, Koba (Stalin’s nickname) . . . I must give you my final ‘farewell.’” Bukharin believes that Stalin is unaware of the injustices taking place. He honestly believes that Stalin is just misinformed and if he properly informed the benevolent dictator, then all would be corrected (or at least forgiven). On the contrary, Stalin knows exactly what is taking place and approves of it. In contrast to Bukharin’s views, Rubashov’s relationship with No. 1 is more in line with that of Trotsky. Rubashov admits that the Soviets’ “leader-worship is more Byzantine than that of the reactionary dictatorships” (Koestler, p.130). In the old photograph with Lenin, Rubashov is at the old man’s side, not Stalin. Rubashov views himself as an intellectual equal with No. 1 and does not revere and grovel at his feet like Bukharin has in “Last Letter.” Furthermore, Rubashov bravely asserts that “since No. 1 sat on the Party with his broad posterior, the air underneath was no longer breathable” (Koestler, p.163). Later, immediately before his execution, he concludes that “the bastion would be preserved, but it no longer had a message, nor an example to give the world. No. 1’s regime had besmirched the ideal of the Social state” (Koestler, p.209). It is obvious that Rubashov is independent from Stalin’s seductive “cult of personality.” Unfortunately, Bukharin’s relationship with Stalin more closely resembles Ivanov’s than Rubashov’s. Ivanov served and believed in Stalin until the very end, until he was betrayed by the system of terror put in place by Stalin. For Bukharin and Ivanov, the Party was Stalin and vice versa. One could not achieve successful revolution without following the word of Stalin as if it were communist ideology. Rubashov made the distinction which Bukharin could not. Rubashov was loyal to the revolution and communist ideology. He even willingly confessed to fantastic crimes and participated in the Moscow Show Trials because of this commitment to protecting communism. But he did not blindly follow Stalin leadership. While Bukharin cried out, “my heart boils over when I think that you might believe that I am guilty of these crimes and that in your heart of hearts you yourself think that I am really guilty of all of these horrors”, Rubashov quietly waited for his fate and knew that history would judge Stalin’s neo-Machiavellism.

Because of its uncanny accuracy, Koestler’s Darkness at Noon is considered a remarkable historical source equal to that of Bukharin’s Last Letter to Stalin. It should be noted; in contrast to the cowardly desperate tone of his letter, Bukharin’s behavior at his show trial in 1938 is today widely described as courageous. The preceding analysis of the two sources described similarities and differences between the accused concerning their thought processes, motivations, and relationships with Stalin. Each of the sources shed light on the appalling ordeal which political oppositionists must have faced during the Great Purge. Their experiences lend much to a greater understanding of a victims’ psychology. But while these men were not guilty of any counter-revolutionary crimes, they certainly were only victims of an authoritarian system which they helped to create. Perhaps the true victims were the thousands of innocent Soviet citizens falsely imprisoned through no fault of their own.

On the Advantage and Disadvantage of History for Life:

Hegelian Historiography as the Deadening of Life

Friedrich Nietzsche’s On the Advantage and Disadvantage of History for Life is as difficult a work to examine as it is intriguing. Also known as The Use and Abuse of History, it was published in 1874 after Hegel’s Reason in History and Marx’s The Communist Manifesto. The two latter works had great influence over the state of German historical studies in the 19th century. Nietzsche sought to critique and protest against, what he believed to be, the sorry state of modern historicism. Hegelian thought dictated that the historical process was a rational process, either driven by Spirit (Hegel) or social relationships (Marx). If this process could be understood, mankind could achieve its final purpose of absolute freedom and truth. For Nietzsche, this historical method is undesirable for it would not lead to freedom and truth, but to the degeneration of life. To preserve the life of the individual, history should be a balanced contemplation of the unhistorical and historical. Within the historical, Nietzsche describes three types which should also be balanced: monumental, antiquarian, and critical. This is the ongoing conflict between historical truth and life. The following will discuss Nietzsche’s view of Hegel’s Reason in History and Marx’s The Communist Manifesto under the context of On the Advantage and Disadvantage of History for Life, and will end with Hegel and Marx’s response.
If they met face to face, Nietzsche might have said bluntly to Hegel, “G.W., you are killing me”, figuratively of course. Nietzsche speaks of the individual’s inability to live life in the present as long as German historiography views history as a dialectical and rational process. Nietzsche views Hegel’s interpretation of history as harmful for man: “the past must be forgotten if it is not to become the gravedigger of the present” (Nietzsche, 10). But he is not dealing with extremes, “the unhistorical and the historical are equally necessary for the health of an individual, a people, and a culture” (Nietzsche, 10). Nietzsche mentions that at times, a fog of the unhistorical must surround an individual in order for that individual to achieve a great act or even to act in life. Furthermore, Nietzsche criticizes the Hegelian idea of “world-process” culminating in the modern German state. He states, “I believe that there has been no dangerous change or turn in the German education of this century which has not become more dangerous through the enormous influence . . . of this philosophy, the Hegelian” (Nietzsche, 47). Hegel believed that the nation-state was the ultimate solution for universal freedom. He considered the 19th century constitutional monarchy of Prussia as ideal. This is certainly connected to Nietzsche’s criticism that “the belief that one is a late arrival of the ages is paralyzing and upsetting” (Nietzsche, 47). The developmental view of human history can be seen as creating arrogance about human achievement, in effect, leading to a stagnation of ideas and change. In addition, Nietzsche attacks Hegelian historians for claiming that they could achieve true objectivity: “Those naïve historians call measuring past opinions and deeds by the common opinions of the moment “objectivity”: here they find the canon of all truths; their work is to make the past fit the triviality of their time” (Nietzsche, 34). This Hegelian method occurs even today, as the idea that as time passes, future historians are supposedly able to better understand the past and view history “objectively” and rationally. Nietzsche not only mocks this notion, but sides against trying to achieve it. He supposes that history should not be methodologically scientific, in search of some absolute and rational truth. He believes that turning history into a scientific process resulted in the individual man being incapable of ever acting in life and making history themselves.

Nietzsche never mentions Karl Marx explicitly in his work, but judging by his critique of Hegelian ideas, Nietzsche would have disagreement with Marx’s historical methodology as well as the content of the dialect. Needless to state, Nietzsche does not subscribe to the view of history as a dialectical process. Like Hegel, Marx believes that mankind is capable of making their own history though understanding the course and ultimate end of history. He departs from Hegel by replacing the “spirit” and god with material forces such as labor and class-conflict. Inherent in the historical process is the destruction of the current market system and the seed for a new synthesis, socialism. Of course the content of the message does not change the fact that Marx still views history (perhaps even more so than Hegel) as scientific and rational. With the rational study of economic and social history, true freedom can be achieved through proletariat revolution. Nietzsche would probably not draw any distinctions between Marx’s socialist utopia as the “end of history” and Hegel’s constitutional nation-state. In fact, what Marx is advocating is the degradation of the individual and life itself: “one need only to continue to write history from the standpoint of the masses and to look in it for those laws . . . . of motion of the lowest loam and clay strata of society” (Nietzsche, 55). Nietzsche clearly believes that mass culture and ideology only serve to dilute the vibrant nature of individual life. He may have a valid point, but it is irresponsible and infuriating to read such an opinion. Nietzsche seems to conveniently ignore the social and economic aspects of dialectical materialism when criticizing it. Perhaps this follows the trend of Nietzsche’s own methodology, which is to provoke independent thought through paradoxical arguments. In addition, Nietzsche continues on stating, “The masses seem to me worthy of notice in only three respects: first as blurred copies of great men, produced on bad paper with worn plates, further as resistance to the great, and finally as tools of the great; beyond that, may the devil and statistics take them” (Nietzsche, 55). Excerpts like the previous show Nietzsche’s implicit political philosophy in direct conflict with that of Marx’s. Marx’s utopia would be Nietzsche’s hell on earth. Uniform masses controlling society, economy, culture, and life. The extraordinary would be lost in the sea of mediocrity. This is less of an attack against Marx’s desire for proletariat liberation, but rather an expression of Nietzsche’s fear of a world without culture. He sees the individual man as the only being capable of achieving great things, thus he is opposed to Marxism.

If they had been able to, Karl Marx and G.W.F. Hegel would probably have responded to Nietzsche’s work. To speculate on their opinions of Nietzsche does a great disservice to their distinguished minds and eloquent language, but regardless of that, I present a brief rebuttal on Nietzsche by Hegel and Marx. Hegel’s criticism of Nietzsche would include the same facts Nietzsche mentions on Hegel. In effect, Hegel agrees to disagree. He would critique the style in which Nietzsche presents his work. Hegel’s work is organized and separated into instructional sections, ready to be taught and discussed in Prussian universities. In contrast, Nietzsche’s ideas flow fluidly on each page, but their relevance is sometimes disconnected. Nietzsche’s style of composition is like a long run-on sentence explaining the state of the world, with some profound and cryptic statements inserted at unpredictable moments. Mostly, Hegel might actually note the similarities they share as well as some of Nietzsche’s self-contradictions. Both Hegel and Nietzsche share an almost nostalgic view of ancient Greece: “the Greeks achieved a victory over all other cultures and that every increase of truthfulness must also be a preparatory advancement of true culture” (Nietzsche, 64). But Hegel could also note that it appears Nietzsche has lapsed into the blunder which he accused German historians of perpetuating. According to previous Nietzsche, his own historical study of ancient Greece and the “truth” of classical Greek culture can only be interpreted in the context of the current time, in Nietzsche’s case 19th century Germany. So any conclusions drawn from his research in fact has no objectivity and no truth, other than to himself. Hegel can point to inconsistencies in the text to attack Nietzsche’s own historical method. Karl Marx would be less subtle in his critique. Marx could begin by criticizing Nietzsche’s convenient dismissal of social, economic, and political factors. Marx could argue that Nietzsche’s work is an unrealistic philosophy on history as thought. Real history is dialectical materialism. History for Marx is something observable and logical. Nietzsche is a bourgeois thinker; his philosophy is only a byproduct of the mode of production which exists between the bourgeois and proletariat. Art, culture, politics, religion, and everything mentioned by Nietzsche as important to the individual are only elements of the greater false consciousness. Nietzsche’s philosophical arguments are just an abstraction of that consciousness. While Nietzsche is contemplating the balance between historical, unhistorical, and super-historical, the proletariat is trapped in the bondage of industrial wage-slavery. The false consciousness is a blindfold used on the masses, only when they realize this, can revolution occur. “Working men of all countries, [ignore Nietzsche and] unite!” (Marx, 96).

On Stalin and Stalinism

1.) Delineating distinctive periods of Stalin’s foreign policy is a complicated and difficult issue. Foreign relations between the Soviet Union and foreign powers show that Stalin’s decision making was primarily based upon a set of basic principals as well as a strong pragmatic philosophy. Roughly, his principals influencing foreign policy were: firstly the preservation of the Soviet states was paramount, first socialism in one country and eventually world revolution could come out of a strong USSR; preservation meant that the USSR needed a series of “buffer states” which would be “friendly” to control by Moscow; war with the capitalists and imperialists was inevitable, but war should be avoided if all possible so all energy could be spent strengthening the regime and building industry; lastly, an understanding with Germany was the key to achieving security and future communist goals in Europe. Both the USSR and Germany had been ostracized by the Western powers after World War I. Stalin understood that a friendly Germany could provide an effective buffer against France and Great Britain. As the political atmosphere of Europe would radically change with the rise of Nazi Germany, Stalin’s principals would bend and adapt to the foreign relations climate until his death in 1953.
Stratifying a certain historical time frame is never a clear-cut process. But Stalin’s foreign policy towards Germany between the years from 1929 through 1953 can perhaps be divided into four major periods, some of which are longer and more notable than the others. Each period is roughly marked by a major historical development in Europe from 1929 to 1953: First, Stalin virtually achieves absolute power over the Party and USSR in the late 1920s; Secondly, during the early 1930s the Nazi Party rises to power in Germany; Thirdly, Hitler attacks the Soviet Union in 1941; and lastly, Nazi Germany is ultimately defeated in 1945. The following will briefly describe each major period and then evaluate the effectiveness of Stalin’s policies during that particular period.

In 1929, on his fiftieth birthday, Stalin was eulogized as the leader of the Soviet Union in a manner surpassing any praise ever lavished on Lenin in his lifetime. His doubters and political rivals were defeated and crushed (but perhaps not yet enough in Stalin’s paranoid mind). Another despot in his position may have sought even more power through foreign conquests, but Stalin was more focused on vast schemes of social engineering then with international diplomacy. His general policy towards Germany was to continue the cooperation the two nations had shared since 1922, while monitoring and controlling the German Communists through Comintern. Soviet foreign relations with Germany since the inception of the Weimar Republic were peaceful and friendly. The USSR had “a clandestine military collaboration with Germany” (Ulam, p.337) allowing secret German installations on Soviet soil, which enabled the Weimar government to circumvent provisions of the Versailles Treaty. In return, Stalin’s diplomats negotiated the Rapollo Agreement with Germany which provided agricultural and industrial machinery for Stalin’s 5-Year Plan, as well as the exchange of military intelligence. Stalin patiently waited for the proletariat revolution to take place in Germany because he was preoccupied with internal matters in the USSR. Maintaining the status quo was Stalin’s primary policy for Germany during this first period. As mentioned before, one of the basic principals of Stalin’s early foreign policy making was the belief that a friendly Germany was the best way to keep the balance of power between the imperialist powers and the Soviet Union. When evaluating this period, it is evident that Stalin’s policy is a sound and safe one. There were no major diplomatic crises between the Soviet Union and Germany during this time. Unfortunately, the long-lasting “honeymoon” period between the two nations would soon come to an end.
The second period of Stalin’s policy toward Germany is marked by the rise of Nazi Germany under Adolf Hitler in the early 1930s. The illusionary brightening of international politics and economy following The Great War did not last. With the onset of the Great Depression in 1929, mass unemployment afflicted the West and the liberalism of the democracies was under increasing attack from extremists. As fascist regimes began taking control of European governments, Stalin looked on without alarm. The National Socialist Party in Germany was gaining support. Initially, Stalin believed that “Hitler was preferable to the Catholic and Social Democratic politicians who had been seeking a rapprochement with Britain and France . . . A Hitlerian interlude would only serve to radicalized the German working masses” (Ulam, p.363). Consequently, the German Communists were ordered to not assist the socialists in saving the Weimar Republic. This move by Stalin marks the beginning of his reaction to the rise of Nazism in Germany. The decision to play a small part in the overthrow of the Weimar government will prove to be a critical error in policy on Stalin’s part. Stalin wishfully hoped for instability and revolution in the homeland of Marx and Engels. It also shows how little Stalin understood Hitler’s ideological mentality and fanaticism. Even after it appeared that Hitler was not just a transitional figure clearing the way for German Communism, Stalin would still leave open the possibility for good relations between the two conflicting nations.

The year of 1932 saw more change in Stalin’s foreign policy in reaction to Hitler’s rise. The USSR signed non-aggression treaties with the Baltic states, Poland, and France. This was Stalin’s early attempt to protect the Western border of Russia in the case that Hitler “really meant his anti-Communist and anti-Soviet rhetoric” (Ulam, p.365). By 1934, the pleasing vision of a Communist Germany had all but been extinguished. Stalin could now clearly see a future in which Hitler controlled the most powerful and efficient military-industrial war-machine on the European continent. Before 1934, Stalin and his advisors, such as Maxim Litvinov, fooled themselves into believing that Hitler’s anti-Communist tirades were mostly for propaganda. “But now Hitler was putting himself forth as defender of Western civilization against Communism” (Ulam, 377) and was finding a sympathetic ear in some of the conservative French and British circles. A breakdown in foreign relations occurred and treaties from 1922 which involved military collaboration between the two states were soon terminated. It is at this point when Stalin realizes that to keep the Soviet Union out of war he must negotiate with the Western “imperialist bandits.” Stalin’s foreign policies with the French show how his willingness to adapt to the political climate transcends his fundamental ideological principals. He is willing to deal with the capitalist aggressors if that means keeping Russia secure from German attack. The Franco-Soviet treaty of mutual assistance is the best example of Stalin’s foreign policy moves in response to Nazi anti-Communist rhetoric. Stalin is making appropriate and gradual moves to strengthen the security of the USSR. His objective is not to destroy Hitler at this point, because the possibility of war was not immediate. The Russians (mistakenly) considered the French army the strongest force on the continent and viewed German rearmament as far from complete. As Ulam states, “The war might come, but certainly not this year or next, and if it came, one hoped that the Soviet Union would not be involved or, if worse came to worse, would not be without powerful allies” (Ulam, p.400).

Stalin’s international political chess game was far from easy. While he negotiated with the Western democracies, he never abandoned the possibility that Hitler may come to his senses and agree to Soviet neutrality. “Discreet probes from the Soviet side took place as early as the summer of 1935” (Ulam, p.403). Stalin’s probes were only to keep a diplomatic channel open between the USSR and Germany. Stalin still stood by his assumption that Hitler could be contained through collective security agreements with the West. But beginning in 1936, with Hitler’s uncontested move into the Rhineland, Stalin’s faith in the Western nations’ convictions would be tested and eventually destroyed. Stalin watched as the French position became weak and undecided. France “did not do so much as order a general mobilization, even though this, with Germany far from rearmed, would probably have made Hitler back down on the Rhineland” (Ulam, p.406). In 1938, the Czechoslovakian crisis would further influence Stalin’s future decision to sign the Nazi-Soviet Pact in August of 1939. It appears that the appeasement of Hitler by the Western powers (Britain and France) during the crisis demonstrated to Stalin that the imperialists were no longer interested in collective security and in fact pushing Hitler’s aspirations for land towards the East. The fears of Russia eventually becoming the target of the German Fuhrer’s war-machine would culminate in the summer of 1939.

To make a long story short, “Russia’s imperative need in 1939 was to stay out of war” (Ulam, p.513). Hitler appeared to be ready to attack Poland and relations between Germany and the democracies had broken down. Stalin and Molotov’s gamble in the summer of 1939 was a success for the Soviets. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and it is impossible to speculate on how the war may have turned out if Stalin had committed to collective security with the West. But what is known is that Stalin cleverly and successfully negotiated with a hostile German government and achieved his primary goal. His foreign policy motivations may be interpreted as short-sighted and misguided, but it gave the USSR what she needed, time. Immediately following the signing of the Nazi-Soviet Pact, Stalin became “ a virtual satellite of Hitler’s, his policy for the moment more attuned to Germany’s wishes and needs than even Mussolini’s were” (Ulam, p.517). The new agreement would control and humiliate Stalin’s foreign policy until the German surprise attack on Russia in June 1941. Evaluating the previously mentioned period of Stalin’s foreign policy shows that his decisions were based on misinformed assumptions, but most would prove to be effective. In 1932, Stalin wrongly believed Hitler to be a transition figure in German politics, thus ordering German Communists to help overthrow the Weimar Republic. Fortunately, Stalin did lay the groundwork for a military alliance with the West when he advanced European collective security and promoted the image of Soviet Bolshevism as the only strong opponent to Nazi Germany. Because of political developments from 1936 to 1939, Stalin desperately signed the Nazi-Soviet Pact. He rationalized this decision because he wrongly believed that as in WWI, Germany could not prevail over France and Britain, and the conflict would be long and destructive to both sides as Russia waited on the sidelines.

The final two time periods of Stalin’s foreign policy towards Germany are, for the most part, straightforward or beyond the scope of this evaluation. Immediately prior to Operation Barbarossa, Stalin was fixated on the notion that maintaining peace with Germany was the only policy which could expand Soviet interests. He did not consider any opinions or facts stating the contrary. Stalin was convinced that if he did nothing, Hitler would not be provoked into attacked. On June 22nd, 1941, the Soviet Union was attacked and Stalin was completely surprised. His decision making abilities were frozen for the first few days of the war. The Nazi-Soviet Pact had finally folded under the extreme pressure of Hitler’s fanatical ideological philosophy. Foreign relations between the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany became non-existent. The Great Patriotic War would prove to be total war, the likes of which the Western world had not yet seen. It is obvious that Stalin’s foreign policy immediately prior to and after the German attack were extremely ineffective. Stalin was totally convinced of the rationality of the Nazi-Soviet Pact and he would not allow any mobilization of defense for the impending invasion. The results were disastrous defeats of the Russian army, one after another. Stalin’s leadership directly contributed to this disaster. After accepting the state of war the USSR was in, Stalin’s foreign relations with Germany evaporated. There was only one possible policy in response to this indignity, total annihilation of Hitler’s Nazi Germany.

The last period of notable foreign relations between Germany and the USSR under Stalin begins with the defeat of Nazi Germany and is marked by the events of 1948. When World War II in Europe ended, Germany was effectively no longer a sovereign state. Stalin’s foreign policy towards Germany was now a policy over post-war Germany via the United States (and to a lesser extent Great Britain). The foreign relations between these two super-powers in the early years of the Cold War are complicated and still controversial today. As a result, the evaluation of Stalin’s policies will focus on one major event, the Berlin Blockade. Following the end of the war, Stalin’s main policies for post-war Germany were to reap the maximum amounts of reparations, keep West Germany divided and weak, and install a communist friendly government in East Germany. On June 24th, 1948, Stalin ordered the cutting off of passenger and freight traffic. This was an aging Stalin’s risky gamble over the future of Western Germany. Stalin feared that after the Western powers had unified their German occupied territories, German rearmament would soon follow. Stalin was uncharacteristically visionary in his assessment of this situation, but his decision to enact a blockade would only strengthen the convictions of the Western powers in their belief a strong Germany was needed equalize the balance of power in Europe. In this final period of Stalin’s foreign policy, his gamble proved to be ineffective, but at least not disastrous. “It had been a draw: The Americans had not grown weary of foreign entanglements, but the Western response to the blockade was not vigorous enough to discourage the Soviets from threats over Berlin in the future” (Ulam, p.688).

Stalin’s foreign policy twisted and adapted as political conditions in Germany and Europe evolved from 1929 to 1953. In any discussion of diplomatic policy, foreign relations between two nations are never just isolated to those countries involved. The causes and effects of Soviet-German relations encompass most industrialized nations. In closing, one must remember that Stalin’s complicated policies toward Germany were always intertwined with other concurrent foreign relations: France, Great Britain, and Poland during the 2nd period and the United States during the 3rd and 4th period.


2.) To my new friend Ivan Ivanovich,

Last week the two of us were having an interesting historical debate about the merits of Stalinism. Your view of Stalinism was intriguing to me, although I must admit I thought you had finished off one too many glasses of Stolichnaya. I want to respond to your comments about Stalin and the USSR under Stalinism in a fair and responsible manner. I respectfully disagree with your beliefs Ivan, but I do have some understanding about why you have admired Stalin and his policies. My response to your argument will consist of examining each statement you have made praising Stalin and Stalinism, and then revealing the true and terrible effect Stalinism actually had in each of these topics. The following will discuss your claims that when Stalin was alive: everyone had work, the economy was growing, prices were stable, the USSR had the respect of other nations, the army fought as an effective force, there was no crime, and the USSR was building toward socialism.

During the Stalin Revolution there occurred a massive project for collectivization and industrialization. While the basic statement “everyone had work” is factually correct, the conditions of the employed work force should be considered before any credit is given to Stalin. Between the years of 1928 to 1932 the industrial work force doubled. With this sudden rise in urban population, the industrial workers were hit hard with near starvation. “In 1929 the city-dweller consumed 47.5 kilograms of meat, poultry, and fat; in 1930, 33; in 1931, 27.3; and in the terrible year of 1932 less than 17” (Ulam, p.342). In addition, finding housing became an increasingly difficult task. There was a serious lack of living quarters to accommodate the influx of workers. Furthermore, factory managers hired scores of unskilled workers to meet their targets and quotas, but this only served to create an unbelievable labor turnover rate. So-called unemployment was abolished because of Stalin’s 5-year Plan, but the side effects of this policy scarred Soviet society. As unfortunate as conditions were for the Soviet industrial worker, it does not compare to the plight of the Soviet peasant during the Stalin Revolution.

The statements “the economy was growing” and “prices were stable” under Stalinism are shown to be false when examining the facts of collectivization from 1928 to 1933. Apart from the human cost (de-kulakization) and terrible atrocities (Ukrainian famine) committed in the countryside during the Stalin Revolution, the actual success of this excessively cruel policy can be called into question. “Collectivization has been an economic disaster in the long run. After 40 years Soviet agriculture still remains the Achilles’ heel of the entire national economy. For all the zigzag course of repression and incentives, it still performs poorly in comparison with agriculture in other countries” (Ulam, p.356). Even Stalin had realized that collectivization had been an economic failure. His regime falsified crop statistics and after his death Khrushchev stated that actual statistics showed the performance of Russian agriculture was the same as in 1913. Furthermore, during Stalin’s rule, prices were in fact not stable. In 1930, inflation had become a major problem. Reduced consumption by workers and peasants was greater than before. Stalin’s policies show that he whole-heartedly believed his plan was the only way to achieve socialism in the shortest period of time (something Lenin was opposed to) and did not care if his economic policies actually benefited the quality of life for the Russian people. Of course the Soviet economy did see a small amount of improvement from 1934 to 1938, but that only demonstrates the Russian peoples’ achievement in spite of, not because of, Stalinism.

It is sometimes easy to fall into the illusion that Stalin’s policies created a feeling of respect for the Soviet Union among her international neighbors. Likewise, there is a misconception that the Soviet armed forces were an effective and dominant fighting force prior to 1943. In actuality, the USSR did not have much respect from other nations. For example, during the Czechoslovakia crisis of 1938, Stalin pledged to stand by his obligations to attack Germany if a European war broke out over Czechoslovakia. He did this in part because he knew it would be geographically difficult for Russia’s military to fulfill Stalin’s lofty statements. His statements did build a strong, positive perception of the USSR in the eyes of the Western democracies, but they were made mostly without teeth. Russian military efficiency did not stir up any confidence for the British and French, nor did it strike fear in Hitler’s cold, dead heart. The German Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs, Ernst von Weizsacker once confided to a fellow German diplomat: “Russia hardly exists in our calculations today. As long as Stalin makes himself as useful as now, we need not particularly worry about him as regards military policy” (Ulam, p.495). Weizsacker is referring to Stalin’s purge of the Red Army in 1937-1938 which unquestionably crippled the Red Army’s effectiveness as a fighting force on the eve on World War II. Stalin had shot, en masse: generals, marshals, lieutenant generals, corps commanders, divisional commanders, and even lower grades of officers in the Soviet navy. How could any industrial foreign power fear, at alone respect, an army whose highest and most experienced men had been shot? “Most of the Red army commanders who were liquidated were vigorous men in the prime of life, whose absence undoubtedly contributed to the military catastrophe of the first months of the war and of the summer of 1942” (Ulam, p.448). Furthermore, even Stalin’s “heroic” leadership during the Great Patriotic War can now be called into question. Recent writings of Marshal Zhukov found by his daughter describe the wartime leader: “he was not really competent as commander-in-chief; his main concern was to claim credit for the victories scored by others; he tried constantly to instigate quarrels and mutual distrust among his most prestigious marshals and generals” (Ulam, p.xxiii). Stalin’s paranoid and impulsive policies before World War II (and perhaps even during) created the exact opposite of an “effective and dominant” fighting force: a weak and vulnerable military establishment which had nearly cracked under the pressure of the Nazi blitzkrieg.

Under Stalinism, the Soviet Union “had no crime”. This statement can be interpreted at true if one defines crime as: “members of a serviceman’s family who, knowing of his intentions to defect abroad did not report him to the authorities” (Ulam, p.398). Or perhaps crimes such as “being late to work, becoming through no fault of their own prisoners of war, or of being related to people condemned on mere suspicion” (Ulam, p.5). If the previously mentioned “infractions” satisfy the definition of crime, then it should be conceded that Stalin’s criminal code did eliminate all crime in the Soviet Union. But instead of focusing on the debate over the existence of domestic crimes, the idea of “no crime” is essentially false because Stalin and his NKVD secret police were directly responsible for crimes against the Soviet people and crimes against humanity. The motivations behind Stalin’s Great Purges and show trials are complicated. Stalin created suspicions about counter-revolutionaries and conspiracy plots in his mind. It was clear that when it came to suspicions it was “easy to fool Stalin, or rather that Stalin chose to fool himself. If a man had grown obnoxious or inconvenient to him, he was ready to listen to and accept any accusation, no matter now absurd” (Ulam, p.397). It would be easy to explain away the purges and show trials on Stalin’s pathological fear of betrayal, but it is important to note that Stalin’s personality and mentality made him “particularly suitable for operating and succeeding within the context of Soviet reality” (Ulam, p.443). Stalin could not allow his followers a moment of relaxation. He always had to maintain an amount of fear and terror. Up to 9 million were arrested and 1 million sentenced to death. The gulag camps contained approximately 4 million prisoners at any one time. Stalin’s purges would continue even after World War II until the time of his death. On average, tens of thousands of innocent Soviet citizens were brought in by the NVKD each year. Aside from his ever lasting purges of the Soviet population, evidence shows Stalin was involved in many instances of mass murder. For example, Stalin went out of his way in 1932 (during the worst year of collectivization) to create a famine in Ukraine which claimed the lives of 3 to 10 million people. Furthermore, in 1939, Soviet troops had captured roughly 10,000 Polish officers. In 1940, Stalin ordered the NKVD to shoot and murder all of them. Stalin’s NKVD war crimes are similar to those perpetrated by Hitler’s SS during World War II. During his reign, crime was rampant in the Soviet Union – state sponsored crime perpetrated by Stalin and his loyal cronies.

When evaluating Stalin’s role in building the USSR toward socialism, the definition of socialism is the first issue at hand. Stalin’s interpretation of socialism was a twisted combination of Marxist, Leninist, and Stalinist views. Stalin did adhere to a core of revolutionary beliefs. Stalin believed in the ultimate goal of world communism and viewed Russia as leading the way. But he combined communist ideology with the historical tradition of Russian authoritarianism. He admired Peter the Great and Ivan the Terrible. Stalin believed war communism and totalitarianism as the only ways to achieve true socialist revolution. One of the reasons why people might praise Stalin is because of this conviction to building socialism quickly (and ruthlessly) in Russia. It gave the Soviet peoples a sense of mission and a set of lofty goals to achieve in life. Stalin believed that life had to be a struggle. The image of the Soviet people struggling towards building communism appealed to him greatly. For him, communism could not be built easily, and if it could, it would not be worth creating. Because he controlled every aspect of life in the USSR, Stalin’s cult of personality became so powerful, that it lives on till today despite glasnost and perestroika. A minority still believes that Stalin was a great Marxist and socialist revolutionary driving Russia toward a far-reaching communist goal. Stalin is quoted as saying, “The question stands as follows: either one way or the other, either back – to capitalism – or forward – to socialism. There is no third way, no can there be” (Daniels, p.10). What Stalin provided the Soviet Union was a sense of purpose, whether that purpose is building the USSR towards genuine socialism or Stalinist socialism. Stalin “threw out the humanistic essence of socialism and gradually replaced it with what one might call ‘sacrificial socialism’” (Daniels, p.19). Now the decision is on the individual to decide which form of socialism was the valid one to pursue, and if that ideological interpretation is truly worth praising.

In closing, I hope I have respected your views on Stalin while accurately and concisely conveying my views to you. In any debate, someone will be able to find historical evidence to support their position and I look forward to your response to my analysis of Stalinism. Remember, to expose Stalin’s culpability and his crimes against the Soviet people does not mean to diminish Soviet achievements during those years. Just consider how much more could have been achieved without Stalin’s cruel regime.


3.) New York Times Literary Supplement: Conversations with Stalin and Sofia Petrovna

Adam Ulam’s Stalin: the Man and His Era is a comprehensive historical biography about Soviet dictator Joseph Stalin, but for all its valuable uses as a reference tool, one cannot escape the fact that it is a secondary historical source. While they do not compare to the magnitude of Ulam’s work, Conversations with Stalin by Milovan Djilas and Sofia Petrovna by Lydia Chukovskaya are primary historical sources which focus more of their attention on the opinions and feelings of people who had lived under or through the brutal periods of Stalinism. For the reader, Djilas’ work provides an intriguing interpretation of Stalinism from the viewpoint of a disillusioned Yugoslav Communist. Not to be outdone, Chukovskaya’s work of fiction is based on her own experiences living under Stalin’s regime and helps to explain the complicated and confusing ideas present during the Great Purges.

Milovan Djilas Conversations with Stalin is primarily a diary of his three trips to the Soviet Union in 1943, 1944, and 1948. From the beginning, the titles of each of his chapters foreshadow Djilas account of Stalinist Russia: “Raptures”, “Doubts”, and finally “Disappointments”. His work will not be a blind report praising Stalin and Soviet led socialism, but will be a personal and revealing account of a loyal communist official encountering the harsh reality of Stalin’s socialism.

Immediately one notices that Djilas as a highly intelligent and articulate man. A sense of genuine sincerity is felt as he describes how his “entire being quivered from the joyous anticipation of an imminent encounter with the Soviet Union” (Djilas, p.16). Djilas sentiments were probably very similar to those of his compatriots and other foreign communist officials. His heightened sense of fascination and reverence for the Soviet Union shows the effectiveness of Stalin’s propaganda abroad. Reading Ulam’s work also reveals that loyal communists had a blind faith in Stalin, but the personal, first-person account my Djilas helps the reader to understand human motivations which were previously a mystery. All this would soon change. During his first meeting with Stalin, Djilas observes that Stalin dominates discussions and even asserts that the Netherlands are not a member of the Benelux union. No one at the table dares to contradict him. Djilas later observes about Stalin’s views: “But it would not have been difficult for me, even then, to detect in any other author of the same qualities that his style was colorless, meager, and an unblended jumble of vulgar journalism and the Bible” (Djilas, p.130). Then doubts begin to creep in as he is horrified by the actions of the Red Army in his homeland and the relationship that the Soviets – so-called communist comrades – wish to compel upon the Yugoslavs. Quickly this moves to deep disappointment as he realizes that for all their propaganda, the Soviets are truly just a different embodiment of imperialistic and authoritarian Russia.

Finally, Djilas personal insights into the characters of Stalin’s cronies paint a vivid picture of Stalin’s inner circle, one which he controlled with absolute power. His portraits of Khrushchev, open-minded and clever; of Molotov, Stalin's taciturn lieutenant; Dimitrov, the powerful Bulgarian kept on Stalin's string; Beria, sinister and drunk; and a host of other prominent figures brings to life the historical figures which Ulam described rather drying (with exception to Ulam’s infamous footnotes).

In a similar manner to Djilas, Lydia Chukovsakya’s Sofia Petrovna could easily be a personal memoir, but her method is to use a fictional narrative. Briefly, the story is of the life of Sofia Petrovna, a good and hard-working communist. He daily life is acceptable and relatively good until her beloved son is caught up in the injustice of Stalin’s Great Purges. The realization that Soviet communism is not what she believed it to be drives her insane. Everything she was ever taught to believe in was now being questioned. The reader experiences the turmoil of her inner ideological conflict. There is no happy ending here, only a painfully realistic account of a life ruined because of Stalin’s unnecessary and despicable policies.

Once again, a person can learn about Stalin’s Great Purges by reading hundreds and hundreds of Ulam’s pages, but his abstract explanations of how these purges affected the common Russian people pales in comparison to Sofia’s fictional testimony. Chukovskaya shows that Soviet society had been completely poisoned by Stalin’s lies. As Stalin knowingly destroyed the lives of his fellow countrymen, the feelings and emotions of the survivors became distorted. Sofia Petrovna knows that her son, Kolya, is innocent of the accused crimes. But if she believes in her personal feelings, then the prosecutors and newspapers must be wrong. To a greater extent Comrade Stalin must be wrong . . . no, this of course is not an option. Unlike Djilas, Sofia does not have the luxury of disillusionment. Her remaining years will be spent with confusion, living in a society gone mad. Therefore this is her struggle and is now the readers struggle. As a primary source, Sofia Petrovna helps us understand that “to the ordinary person what was happening seeming purposely planned and senselessness; and how can one make sense of deliberately planned chaos?” (Chukovskaya, p.112).


Works Cited

1.) Adam Ulam, Stalin: the Man and His Era.
2.) Robert Daniels, The Stalin Revolution.
3.) Milovan Djilas, Conversations with Stalin.
4.) Lydia Chukovskaya, Sofia Petrovna.

The Origins of Nazi Genocide

The topic of Nazi Genocide during the Second World War is a complicated one to say the least. The origins for the systematic murder of six million European Jews continues to be debated today. Based on the interpretations of historical events occurring during the Nazis’ rule of Germany, the most probable explanation is that Hitler and the Nazi leadership never lost sight of their final anti-Semitic goal, but only moved forward toward the “final solution” when the circumstances presented themselves. The following will discuss the origins of Nazi Genocide during: the rise of Nazi Germany, the first year of WWII, and after the attack on the Soviet Union.

During the rise of Nazi Germany (1933 – 1939), the combination of Nazi fanatical ideology, totalitarian government, and Nazi policies would create a framework for future mass exterminations. The background to the rise of Nazi ideology begins before the First World War. Europe was transforming into a modern industrial society. Tradition links of society disappeared as urban life proliferated. Within that framework, the middle-class and elites became threatened by the organization of modern capitalism and losing control of the economy. The desire to recreate the frameworks of traditional society led to the inception and rise of political religions. It was not a coincidence that the rise of the Nazi party began during the Great Depression. Although they were anti-democratic and anti-liberal in nature, the Nazis were ultra-nationalist and appealed to the rights of the nation and the racial community. Eugenics was an important part of the Nazi ideology. The German people were united by their genes or “blood.” Nazi eugenics focused on improving the race while excluding non-desirable races. Nazi related groups used social Darwinism to justify exclusion and segregation. This belief in racial superiority, combined with a twisted sense of modernity would provide the roots for Nazi genocide when added to Europe’s age old anti-Semitic tradition. Some Jews believed that they had entered modern society as equals after the French Revolution, but many Jews were major figures in the socialist movement. There was a vision of Jews threatening capitalism and the middle-class from their socialist ground. Religious discrimination could easily transfer into nationalism against the Jews. The German humiliation in WWI accelerated anti-Semitic passions because many Germans, including Hitler, were convinced that the Germans were “stabbed in the back” by the Jews resulting in the loss of the war. Hitler was the driving force behind the Nazis rise and one cannot underestimate the degree of his fanaticism. He genuinely believed the Jews were responsible for all problems throughout history and wished to “save humanity” from the Jews at any cost.

The Nazis doctrine of anti-Semitism, eugenics, and ultra-nationalism would have been nothing but far-right rhetoric, if not for Hitler and the Nazi Party’s total control of the German government. Totalitarianism strengthened and spread the Nazi ideology. By the eve of World War II, the Nazi party was in control of key positions in all branches of the government. The huge scale of genocide which would occur could not take place without a modernly organized and absolute system of government. Control over the Jews and other “undesirables” in the Third Reich was total because there were files on all citizens. Hitler and the Nazi leadership would use their power to create policies which tapped into and intensified anti-Semitic fervor. The Nuremburg Laws established the criteria for “Jewish.” This categorization included: full Jewish, mixed breed, and mixed breed 2nd-degree. When the deportations to the concentration camps began, it would decide life and death. The Nazis were careful not to upset the German population with this policy. Jews with full-German spouses enjoyed some immunity because outrage within German families could influence public opinion early on. The categorization shows the combination of fanatical and bureaucratic elements. Also in 1935, segregation laws limited the rights of Jews and economic privileges. Jews could not walk on main streets, sit on certain benches, or live in houses with Aryans. German Jews had to use restricted ration cards and could only shop in designated stores. After 1938, Jewish children were not allowed into non-Jewish schools. The Nazi campaign to segregate the Jews served to desensitize the German public and most citizens were indifferent to the persecution. Keeping public opinion apathetic to the Jewish situation would be critical when the Nazis began their “final solution.”

In the first year of World War II, the world witnessed the German war-machine defeat Poland in three weeks and roll through Western Europe in just six weeks. Signs of the impending genocide could be seen. With the beginning of the war, Hitler gave an order to kill inmates in mental institutions. Seventy thousand mentally ill victims was the target number for operation T-4. The killings were justified through ideas of social Darwinism and modernity. The mentally ill should not be allowed to reproduce and pass on their illnesses, and to keep them alive would be an unnecessary drain on German resources. The continuation of T-4 eventually halted in the fall of 1941 because Catholic churches and German families began complaining. As a result, specialists in murder and extermination were made available to assume positions at extermination camps for the final solution. After Poland fell, German special units followed the German army and began a calculated campaign to kill Polish and Jewish elites. Thousands were killed to prevent any organized Polish resistance against Nazi occupation. Even as Nazi officials authorized the murder of entire groups, the final solution of genocide for the Jews and other groups still had not been conceived. On September 21st, 1939 the Nazi leadership ordered Polish Jews to be moved to large cities by railway for a “final goal.” Geographic concentration and the establishment of Jewish councils would be vital for a large operation in the future. The Germans ordered a census to be conducted by the councils. The census was obviously used to calculate welfare, but would also be used to create a viable system for a “final solution.” The Nazis had already segregated the German Jews, now the next step would be emigrate them out of the Reich. The Germans restricted Polish Jew emigration. As a result, Poles and Polish Jews would be expelled further east to make room for ethnic Germans and a solid German state. The exchange of populations led to the idea of extermination to create “living space.” In the west, Vichy France published a Statute of Jews which was essentially the Nuremburg Laws. France has a history of anti-Semitism and published the laws before Germany had even ordered them. Established Jews in France looked down upon the German and Polish Jews. They believed they could reach an understanding with Vichy France and shift attention to the immigrant Jews. Without any solidarity between eastern and western Jews, deportations for the genocidal exterminations would soon be conducted with little resistance.

The attack on the Soviet Union and the events immediately after it mark the final phase before the systematic murder of Jews in extermination camps. In the fall of 1940, Hitler cannot invade England because the Royal Navy and RAF are too powerful. The United States was drawing closer to full involvement. The Nazi war effort required Russian oil and Hitler also believed a total victory over the Soviet Union would deter the United States from entering the war. On March 31, 1941 Hitler declares to his top generals that the war against the USSR will be one of extermination. The first order was to shoot any political official taken prisoner. The second order was that no military justice or tribunals be applied during operations. “War crimes” would be allowed and encouraged. Hitler ordered Himmler’s SS to follow the German army into Russia. The official orders from SS commanders were to incite local populations to create anti-Jewish outbursts and kill all Jewish POWs. The German military planners were aware that supplying the army would be difficult. The easy solution would be to starve the Soviet, Jewish, and POW populations. The Nazis took modernity to its extremes. Expansion of killings in Soviet territories came as a result of food shortage. In the beginning the killings were mainly men, but by mid-August 1941 the proportion of women and children increased. Nazi science found gas as a way to kill as many people as possible. Before the final solution was even decided upon, the genocide had unofficially begun, 600,000 Soviets and Jews were already dead from Himmler’s murder squads.

In the fall of 1941, crucial events would take place influencing the Nazi development of the “final solution” and eventually leading up to the Wannsee Conference. In September the USS Greer attacked a German submarine. Hitler feared increased US involvement and in his eyes, the American Jews were pushing the US towards war. On September 17th he gives the order for deportation of all German Jews to Poland. Hitler wanted to use the German Jew elites as hostages to send a message to American Jews. In November, to make room in Polish ghettos, Polish Jews were deported to occupied Russia. The Polish Jews were literally shot to death as they arrived in occupied territory. Nazi modernity and ideology teaches that the advantages for killing them far outweighed the prospects of housing and feeding them. Later in the month Chelmno, a murder site outside Lodz, is created to clear the ghettos. Belzec is the first extermination camp built and uses gas banks. In December, Pearl Harbor is attacked and Germany is forced to declare war on the US. Hitler now has the world war in which he can fulfill the ultimate prophecy in Nazi ideology, extermination of all Jews. Himmler noted in his diary that Hitler would not allow Germany to be “stabbed in the back again.” He orders the killing and extermination of all “partisans.” This is the indirect order to begin the Final Solution before the Wannsee Conference. In January of 1942 the Wannsee Conference was held in Berlin and hosted by Heinrich Himmler to discuss the logistics of genocide. Himmler calculated 11 million Jews in Europe, Russia, and North Africa which could be put into slavery at concentration camps and then exterminated. First on their agenda was to reclassify the Jew breeds. The Nuremburg Laws were extended to include 2nd-degree mixed breeds that “looked Jewish” or married a Jew. The discussion of classification for murder is almost absurd, but it exemplifies the Nazi desire to create an illusion of legality while following fanatical anti-Semitism. The second issue was the decision to put able Jews to work before extermination. The final issues, capture, transportation, and finance involved the logistics for such a large, genocidal operation. The Wannsee Conference marked the official beginning to Nazi Germany’s systematically murderous campaign against European Jewry, as well as marking the end of the origins for Nazi genocide.

To a historical question of this magnitude, there is no single, unquestionable explanation. Some believe that the Nazi ideology was murderous and aimed at the Jews. Hitler’s intention, from the moment of taking power, was to pursue his racist ideology regardless of world events. This intentionalist position seems too simple an explanation. Other may support the argument that there was never an official decision to kill the Jews. The exterminations were haphazard and grew without their control from an initial base of decisions. Again, this seems unlikely, but could probably be supported with particular historical evidence. The most logical conclusion is that the Nazi leadership made decisions influenced by their fanatical ideology. They implemented their general plan when the opportunities arose and were able to implement them with the presence of totalitarianism, modernity, and anti-Semitism. It began with mass murders justified by a warped rationality and sense of modernity. It ended with a deep, ideological desire to exterminate 6 million Jews, gypsies, and homosexuals.

Analysis of Non-Diegetic Film Soundtrack: Donnie Darko (2001)

Introduction

One of the very fundamental elements when creating a film is the arrangement of the film music. Most people probably think of the original film score when referring to a film’s musical components. But for many low-budget, independent or semi-independent projects, epic film scores are not the most advantageous choice. Often, the pre-produced songs used in film music, or popularly referred to as the film’s soundtrack, are overshadowed. Their artistic weight and contribution to the film are overlooked and not fully appreciated simply because critics sometimes view them as a “short-cut” to creating a film’s music or consider them as just entertainment. If utilized properly, popular music used from a different previous context can bring the same amount of artistic and practical worth as originally composed scores. Soundtracks are usually used by a filmmaker diegetically, coming from inside the film’s narrative. But when used in a non-diegetic form, replacing or co-existing with a film’s score, a film’s song soundtrack can sometimes create a stronger relationship with the viewer as well as the onscreen action. This example is perhaps exemplified best in Richard Kelly’s freshman effort, Donnie Darko. Each of the musical pieces chosen by Kelly and his music editors help to define the film, commentate on the narrative of the film, and ultimately influence the emotional tone of the scene. Not to take anything away from Michael Andrews’ original and impressive score, the film’s score will be integrated into the discussion of soundtrack when appropriate. The following will analyze the functions provided by the film’s non-diegetic soundtrack of songs: “The Killing Moon” (Echo and the Bunnymen, 1984), “Head Over Heels” (Tears for Fears, 1985), “For Whom the Bell Tolls” (Steve Baker, Carmen Daye), “Under the Milky Way” (The Church, 1988), and “Mad World” (Tears for Fears, 1983).

The Killing Moon

The opening scene of Donnie Darko begins with the protagonist Donnie Darko (Jake Gyllenhaal) on the side of the road. He has a scenic and panoramic view of his small hometown in Middlesex, Virginia. Michael Andrew’s score plays as Donnie wakes up and sees that he has sleepwalked (or rather sleep-rode his bike) to the top of this hill. A simple piano with the accompaniment of a female choral vocal creates a feeling of innocence and wonder for the viewer. The soft dynamics and light texture of only piano notes allows the viewer to immediately assume that Donnie is a curious and adventurous teenager, and that while waking up on a mysterious road can be off-putting, this situation is more amusing than frightening. A close-up shot of Donnie is shown as he flashes a brief smile to himself. Next the film’s title comes onscreen and the sound effect of high-speed air ripping by transitions the music to the first soundtrack song, “The Killing Moon” written and performed by Echo and the Bunnymen. The song begins as Donnie is riding his bike on the street, downhill and through the forest he is gaining speed as the sun rises for dawn. “The Killing Moon” has an introduction of simple guitar chords; one guitar is plucked and overlaps a second guitar maintaining the rhythm. Then the drums come in as well as the vocals. The scene is given an invigoration of energy, a purpose to achieve something after waking up in the morning. The song immediately places the timeframe of the film in the late 1980s. As Donnie rides his bike into town, this timeframe is confirmed by observing the fashion of the supporting characters as well as the Stephen King book IT which Rose Darko (Mary McDonnell) is reading. The lyrics are ominous, and foreshadow the basic theme of the film: “Though I know it must be the killing time / unwillingly mine / Fate / Up against your will / Through the thick and thin / He will wait until / You give yourself to him.” For those unfamiliar with the plot, Donnie must become a tool of fate and destiny, eventually killing Frank, and then choosing to sacrifice himself to restore order to the universe. Of course, the viewer cannot make the connection between the lyrics and the narrative at this early stage especially if it is a first viewing, but the correlation is notable after repeated viewings. The music is without question non-diegetic and the up-tempo beat of the drums keeps the scene moving smoothly as the viewer is informally introduced to the Darko family. No dialogue can be heard, the only sound effects are the spokes of Donnie’s bicycle, the noise of Eddie Darko’s (Holmes Osborne) leaf blower, and Samantha Darko (Daveigh Chase) jumping up and down on the trampoline. Their personalities are shown as Eddie playfully uses the leaf blower on his daughter Elizabeth (Maggie Gyllenhaal) as she shakes the car keys asking for permission to use it. Rose is quietly reading while watching over the playful youngest child Samantha. But as the music plays, she flashes an incredibly subtle, yet heartfelt, look of concern as Donnie passes by her. The audience is comfortably introduced to the entire Darko clan and their characteristics in a simple scene lasting no more than two minutes.

Head Over Heels

The “Head Over Heels” scene begins with the dramatic opening of the emergency door in the back of the school bus. Instead of using the conventional bus exit, Donnie and his friends are immediately characterized as teenage rebels when the electric keyboard begins the basic melody of “Head Over Heels”. This musical piece was probably chosen by Kelly for its undeniably stereotypical 80s rock melody as well as its annoying ability to catch the audience’s ear and remain there for some time afterwards. In addition the tempo of the song paces well with what the director is trying to do in the scene. There are two extended, uncut tracking shots which introduce the main supporting characters at Donnie’s school. First the hallway portion will be discussed, and then the outdoor court shot. After Donnie’s dramatic exit from the back of the school bus, the camera cuts to inside the school. Donnie enters the hallway and struts down it with his friends. The music, which began with only an electric keyboard tapping out the melody, now has an electric guitar strumming the catchy tune, mirroring the keyboard almost exactly. Although, the guitar does hit higher notes and sustains those notes longer than the keyboard. This addition in song texture gives the audience a feeling of rebellious teenage attitude. The impression is confirmed as Donnie encounters the school bully, Seth (Alex Greenwald). The camera pans around 180-degrees and the shot briefly changes to slow-motion. The audience is now seeing the hallway through Donnie’s eyes (almost) as Seth tilts his head mockingly and gives Donnie a dirty look. The camera next follows Seth as the audience is introduced to the next character, Kitty Farmer (Beth Grant), an overly conservative physical education “teacher” and coach for the school dance team Sparkle Motion. A drum rhythm is added as Seth flashes Kitty a sarcastic smile. Then the vocals begin, adding to the catchy pop-rock beat. As Kitty walks after Seth, the shots speed changes to a faster motion. It is as if she is perusing Seth, watching him to make sure nothing unseemly is taking place in the hallway. The uninterrupted scene continues as the camera now pans to Gretchen (Jena Malone), the future love interest of Donnie. The lyrics, “traditions I can trace against the child in your face”, play as the viewer is treated to Gretchen checking her complexion in her locker mirror. The romantic theme of the song hit hardest here, as the foreshadowing of Gretchen and Donnie’s future relationship is obvious. Again the camera speed changes, as Gretchen slams her locker (the only diegetic sound heard during this entire scene) and walks down the hall. The shot is slowed down and focuses on her face. Kelly’s focus on her while the song “Head Over Heels” plays non-diegetically shows that he wants the audience to know she will be one of the most important characters in the film. In fact, it is her death at the end of the film which instigates Donnie shooting Frank and deciding to use his power to save her and the primary universe.

After the long hallway scene comes a long uninterrupted scene outside which introduced still more story characters. The transition from hallway to the outside court is marked by a special effect of a bright flash, much like the visual transition after the opening title was shown. But the music is not interrupted. Cherita Chen (Jolene Purdy) is first shown as the camera pans down to her sitting alone reading a textbook. This overweight, Asian, female student is ostracized by her peers. The high-pitched vocals of Tears for Fears juxtaposes this lonely scene of Cherita alone. She is the only character being introduced which is not actively moving about; again this symbolizes her going against the grain which we will later see during her talent show performance. The audience is left with a feeling that just as she doesn’t belong in this upbeat 80s soundtrack, neither does she truly belong among her peers at school. Worth noting, Cherita often wears earmuffs to block out the insults her classmates hurl at her. In this scene, she appears to also be blocking out the music which is smoothly and seamlessly guiding the camera about to every supporting character. Jim Cunningham (Patrick Swayze) is shown next talking with Kitty about his self-help philosophy. The two are joined by the principal, and the trio then proceed to run into Ken Monnitoff (Noah Wyle) and Karen Pomeroy (Drew Barrymore). As this encounter takes place, the lyrics, “wasting my time, just wasting my time” play to shed light on this seemingly cordial meeting. The trio of Kitty, Cunningham, and the Principal are out of touch with the students of Middlesex. Pomeroy and Monnitoff are the new progressive instructors, who will assist Donnie in discovering his fate, not hinder and antagonize him like Kitty and Jim Cunningham. The two groups do not think much of each other as can be seen in their facial expressions. Pomeroy is disgusted by Kitty, but as the scene continues, her disgust spreads to Sparkle Motion. Sparkle Motion is the dance team coached by Kitty which consists of five young Middlesex girls, including Samantha Darko. Just as the chorus of “la-la-la-la-la / la-la-la-la-la” begins, a shot of Sparkle Motion practicing their dance is shown. The camera slowly pans in to emphasize each corny, Star-Search move made by Samantha, and then the girls’ overly enthusiastic reaction to completing the routine. The high-pitched chorus is ominous as the audience is faced with this pre-pubescent dance team representing nothing artistic, and everything commercially shallow and gaudy.

For Whom the Bell Tolls

Richard Kelly moves away from using popular 1980s rock songs as non-diegetic soundtrack in the following scene. It begins with Donnie and Gretchen, who are now “going together” (as Donnie likes to put it), watching a screening of Evil Dead (Raimi, 1981) at the local theater. Initially, only the diegetic music and sound effects of the Evil Dead can be heard. Donnie is quietly watching as Gretchen sleeps beside him. Then the soundtrack begins with a dark vibrato timbre and steady tone of a male vocal. Frank (James Duval) appears as the grotesque Bunny in the seat beside Gretchen. The audience is startled by the sadness represented by the minor scale of the musical piece. “For Whom the Bell Tolls” was written by Steve Baker and Carmen Daye. It is composed of two vocals, a steady male hum and a operatic female choral as a simple drum is beat even few beats. The lyrics are indistinguishable and are elongated as to sound like a foreign opera. The music is filled with sadness and grief, yet telling a tale of predestined fate. Donnie and Frank turn to look at one another with quiet understanding. The camera shoots from an isometric angle slightly lower than eye-level. The shot, with the music, captures Frank’s unsettling Bunny mask as light from the movie screen reflects off of it. The drum beats sound like claps of thunder, foreshadowing a “stormy” and difficult path ahead for Donnie. Donnie asks Frank to take off his Bunny mask, which reveals that Frank’s left eye has been shot out. Donnie is of course responsible for this at the end of the film because “human” Frank accidentally kills Gretchen with his Trans Am. Frank knows he provoked Donnie by killing Gretchen and solemnly apologizes, “I’m so sorry.” The apology could also be on behalf of the “higher power” which set these events in motion.

It is in this scene that Donnie has is most open conversation with the mysterious Frank character. The overture of “For Whom the Bell Tolls” gives the audience the feeling that this encounter is very important in Donnie’s quest to discover his purpose. The male vocals resonate with the audience and lend weight to the terrible task asked of Donnie. Frank wants Donnie to burn down Jim Cunningham’s mansion. In contrast, the smooth female voice in the music draws the views attention to the tragedy taking place. Donnie did not choose this mission to save the universe; it was thrust upon him by some higher, incomprehensible force. The viewer knows he is tragic hero, and they also know his love with Gretchen will also end in tragedy as she sleeps peacefully beside Frank the Bunny. Later in the scene, as Frank explains to Donnie how to make a time portal using his powers, the vocals in the music sing higher and higher. Then the accompaniment of string pieces can be heard in the background. As the strings are fighting to be heard, a tinge of hope sparks up in the narrative. If Donnie follows Frank’s guidance, horrible as it may seem right now, he will eventually set things right by using his powers to create a time portal. Donnie has the same innocence observed previously, and the audience observes a child-like look of sadness on his face. The scene concludes with Donnie looking longingly at Gretchen’s pristine face before setting off into the night to burn down Cunningham’s home. The music then fades and transitions into the next scene where Cherita is performing “Autumn Angel” at the Middlesex Talent Show.

Under the Milky Way

Much less intense than the previous song, “Under the Milky Way” by The Church is played as diegetic party music during Donnie and Elizabeth Darko’s Halloween party. The moment when Gretchen and Donnie kiss in the master bedroom is when the music becomes louder, getting ready to become part of the non-diegetic soundtrack. After Donnie and Gretchen have sexual intercourse, their post-coital decent down the stairs cues “Under the Milky Way” to encompass the environment, it becomes fully non-diegetic. The texture is well arranged and rich. The melody is a melancholy, yet inspiring guitar-pop. Steve Kilbey’s (lead singer) deep and haunting voice resonates with the viewer as Donnie and Gretchen walk downstairs in a long slow-motion close-up shot. The expressions on their faces as they hold hands show the last moments of happiness the two will experience. Kilbey’s does not rush his vocals, which perfectly matches the speed of action onscreen as he sings, “Sometimes when this place gets kind of empty / Sound of their breath fades with the light / I think about the loveless fascination / Under the Milky Way tonight.” His words foreshadow the pain and grief Donnie will experience when later that night, Gretchen is killed. His soul becomes empty, he shoots Frank in the face, Gretchen’s breath fades, and Donnie is left loveless and alone in the night.

As Gretchen and Donnie continue through the house, Kelly drops the music in and out of diegetic and non-diegetic sound. When Donnie briefly puts his head into a water portal, the soundtrack becomes warped and distorted, and eventually fades. Donnie is suddenly brought back into reality, but the dialogue is low and echoes beneath the soundtrack. The viewer’s hearing is connected to Donnie perception of sound. He cannot hear Gretchen’s voice very clearly, but “Under the Milky Way” still prevails as if it were in Dolby surround sound, thus returning the soundtrack to the non-diegetic realm. “Under the Milky Way” has been used to give the audience a sense of disorientation when Donnie is overcome by the water portal. This is the same disorientation Donnie has experienced and now the viewer has some idea about how he feels. In closing, the lyrics parallel the narrative when Donnie insists he and Gretchen go see Roberta Sparrow A.K.A. Grandma Death (Patience Cleveland): “Wish I knew what you were looking for / Might have known what you would find.” Donnie is searching for something, the last piece to the puzzle, the final tragic encounter which will decide his fate. He does not know that he will be ambushed by Seth in Sparrow’s cellar, or that Frank will kill Gretchen, or that he will have to shoot Frank. Donnie is only searching for some meaning, guided by some force to seek out Sparrow’s “Cellar Door”.

Mad World

The second to last scene consists of “Mad World” (by Roland Orzaba and Tears for Fears, performed by Gary Jules) heard non-diegetically as the camera “side-scrolls” between each character affected by Donnie Darko. Donnie has sacrificed his life to create a time portal which saves the primary universe. The events of the past month are only remembered as a vague dream by the people he saved. Each character is depicted by their bed, awake and disturbed by what they remember in their dreams. Orzabal’s lyrics accompanied with a simple piano melody are the best summation of the ordeal experienced by Donnie Darko: “Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow / No tomorrow, no tomorrow / And I find it kind of funny / I find it kind of sad / The dreams in which I'm dying / Are the best I've ever had.” Gary Jules bittersweet and earnest style of singing tear into the viewers emotions, pulling out genuine sorrow for Donnie. It is as if Donnie is singing from beyond the grave. The slow pseudo-montage of each character shows only their facial expression. What they all have in common is a shocked and vulnerable reaction, just like the audience has now, which is intensified by the stripped-down tone and unadorned texture of Jule’s “Mad World”. Strip away the science-fiction plot about time travel and the philosophical argument for the existence of God and what remains is a coming of age story of a teenage boy. The feeling of nostalgia is powerful and transitions into mourning when the scene changes to the Darko family silently crying out for Donnie as “Mad World” fades away for the ending scene.

Conclusion

This discussion of Donnie Darko’s non-diegetic soundtrack is best evaluated while simultaneously screening the film. The previous discussion has attempted to discuss pivotal scenes without having to fully explain the intricacies of the narrative and plotline. Hopefully, analysis of the soundtrack and the visual action has lead to a greater understanding of how soundtrack songs can provide adequate non-diegetic film music to compliment and sometimes replace a film’s original score. The use of popular songs in the films soundtrack (with exception to “For Whom the Bell Tolls”) demonstrate that picture and track share a closely fused relationship. Every part of a music track contributes the overall sensory experience: lyrics, tone, melody, rhythm, and more. This July 2004, Richard Kelly is re-releasing Donnie Darko: The Director’s Cut with new music and footage. Perhaps there will be new scenes and song tracks ready to be analyzed like those in the original.



Works Cited

1.) Donnie Darko. Dir. Richard Kelly; Perfs. Jake Gyllenhaal, Jena Malone, Drew Barrymore; DVD; Prod. Flower Films; Dist. Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, 2001.

2.) “The Killing Moon”. Written by Will Sergeant, Ian McCulloch, Les Pattinson, and Pete De Frietas. Performed by Echo and the Bunnymen.

3.) “Head Over Heels”. Written by Curt Smith and Roland Orzabal. Performed by Tears For Fears.

4.) “For Whom the Bell Tolls”. Written by Steve Baker and Carmen Daye.

5.) “Under the Milky Way”. Written by Steven Kilbey and Karin Jansson. Performed by The Church.

6.) “Mad World”. Written by Roland Orzabal. Performed by Gary Jules and Michael Andrews.

7.) www.imdb.com, film credits